Page 42 of Off Limits Mogul

“Oh, wise one. When did you become a Buddhist monk?”

He laughs.

Rhys Hartford.

Cruelly bullied in school well into his teenage years.

Former rap star one-hit wonder.

More famous for his many rehab visits than his musical career.

He now owns the town that used to ridicule him.

He knows a thing or two about making a comeback.

“I’m not sure I’m ready yet,” I say.

“I much prefer that honest answer.”

I nod.

“You can’t flounder forever. An idle mind is a dangerous mind… for a bratty woman like you.”

I narrow my gaze at him. “More sage wisdom, spiritual guru?”

His glacier-blue eyes fix on me. “Something like that,” he says with a grin.

“At least you didn’t call me a girl.” I roll my eyes.

“You made it perfectly clear today you were anything but.” His voice is as rough as gravel when he says that.

Did the temperature go way up in the Benz?

I fan myself to cool down.

I wish I could do the same for the heat mounting between my legs, but that would be unladylike.

“You have a clean slate, dimples.”

Not that I’d tell him, but I kind of like my new nickname.

“You can go in any which direction you want. Have you put any thought to what you want the next stage of your life to look like?”

“Not really,” I say. “One thing is certain, I’m not going back to being a stupid popstar.”

“This is LA. Any dream is within your reach.”

I consider him.

“You’re incognito until people clue in to who you are,” he says. “Take advantage of it.”

I nod.

My worries dissipated when no one recognized me during my shopping extravaganza. Even without my baseball cap on.

“Promise you’ll think about it?” he says.

“I promise.”